5.10.15

dad graduated a few days before you were born, but you got to go to the real party when you were only a few weeks new. i made you a tie out of one of dads old ones, you put on your dance shoes, and you screamed cheered the loudest as he walked the stage.

he's been your biggest cheerleader since the day you were born, but you've been his for your whole life.

3.10.15

before you get any bright ideas, i have to begin with: i. hate. cross-country. skiing. i mean, i fall constantly. i hate being cold. i hate sweating when i'm cold. i hate not going fast. i hate that there is no hot cocoa in a warm lodge seconds away.

overall, not a fan.

but for some reason, my parents convinced me for the second time to ski to bryant creek, stay the night in a log cabin, and ski back.

the second time was just as bad as the first. but i have to say the fresh, untouched mountain snow was NEARLY enough for me to enjoy myself. but not quite.

2.10.15

it was your first and last time at baba's vaseaux lake house. dad loved that house. he loved the turtle hunts and toon picking. he loved the walnut tree and baba's roses. he had to see it one last time and show you, too.

30.9.15

you might not have loved your first canada day, but i'll tell you what: you will. you will just LOVE all the candy tossed at you from family-filled floats and vintage cars. you will love to play with all your cousins and second cousins and cousins once or twice removed in the hot hot sun with a burger in one hand and a rice crispy square in the other. you will beg to go swimming in the raymond pool and, eventually, be brave enough to jump from the diving board and ride alone down the slide. you might not believe me yet, but canada day is the best. and it is best in raymond, alberta.

28.9.15

your second home was the cabin. we moved there so dad could work. you loved the beach, but hated even a toe in the water. you loved the boat, but if the ride was longer than a few minutes you. just. couldn't. handle. it. we had visitors and you watched them from my arms. we went to elvis concerts. we danced in the streets. we garage sailed every saturday. we sun bathed. we caught some snuggles with dad. you hated any carrier i tried. we saw seattle. and vaseaux lake for the last time. wes tried to convince you that tummy time was seriously awesome (you didn't ever believe him). you slept through the biggest lightning storm i could ever remember and we even caught it on film. and stelle finally accepted you were in our pack.

it was a summer of getting to know each other.

although we have always known each other, haven't we?

it is all a blur. a wonderful sun-soaked blur.

i love you.

mom

ps. i don't care what anyone says, i can still listen to this song on repeat. it was #1 when you were born. and i will always love it.